


as historians may notice

by asexuelf



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Crying, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Post-Episode 3: The Bologna Incident, Pregnancy, Trauma, Travis Joins The Sally Face Gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Travis' parents are having another baby. He doesn't take the news well.
Relationships: Neil & Travis Phelps, Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Kudos: 30





	as historians may notice

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with the travis angst! recently moved out, so i've been thinking a lot about Stuff... which just won't do at all, especially not when i could be making travis think it instead xD
> 
> hope you enjoy!

It's a bright and beautiful morning. Crows are cawing from their verdant perches, flowers are blooming under thin blankets of dew, and Travis is crying to himself in his bathroom.

This isn't terribly novel, given his usual habits; it would be far more outlandish if he were happily enjoying breakfast with his family right now. If he were celebrating with them, toasting orange juice in tall glasses that would never shatter at the barest hint of rage.

Considering the environment, however, his parents' "happy" news had made him lose his appetite rather quickly. He'd choked down an unbuttered waffle and too-quickly excused himself to get ready for school. He hasn't come out of the bathroom since.

-

Despite the fact that he would be more than a little sweaty by the time he reached the school, Travis quietly mourns the old days of walking alone every morning. The AC in Neil's car is nice, and so is the company, but it would be a lot nicer if Neil wasn't so compassionate. Neil's niceness is, as always, his greatest weakness. Both of their weaknesses.

Travis can handle sympathy, even pity, but he draws the line at being cared for. Being cared for always aches.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Neil asks again. That's, what, the eighth time? "I'm here for you, Trav."

And the worst part is, Travis knows it's not just lip-service. Neil would really go out of his way for a miserable asshole like him. "It's fine," he mutters. He tries not to speak too loud, just in case his voice breaks. "Really. Just drop it, okay?"

There's a pause, then Neil sighs. "Okay… But at least promise you'll talk to Sal."

It seems a fair deal. It's not like any of this will be easy to hide from his boyfriend anyhow. "Will do," he says, and attempts to smile back when Neil grins. He fails, but at least he tries.

The ride gets quiet then, slightly awkward, so Neil turns up the radio. Nothing good is playing, but it still brightens Travis' mood, at least for a moment or two. It's better than being suffocated by the heavy honesty of Neil's care.

-

It's still nice out when lunch hits, though the temperature has gone up a fair few degrees. It's not sweltering, but out of the shade, it may cause one to break a sweat.

Travis leans his back against the sturdy tree behind him, basking in the cool shade. The rays of sunlight streaking through the trees is relaxing, especially when accompanied by familiar birdsong, but he feels anything but calm. His stomach hurts like he's going to be sick. The sandwich on his lap is untouched and starting to wilt.

"Travis…"

"Not now, angel."

Shadowed though his eyes are, Travis can tell his Sally Face is glaring at him. Well, maybe not glaring. Something worse than that: pinning him with a concerned gaze. It almost makes him regret learning Sal's body language.

He sighs, looking away from Sal's too-kind stare. "I just… don't know if I want to talk about it." From its place on the plastic baggy in his lap, his sandwich starts to leak mustard. He glares at it. "I don't want to make it real. I don't want to admit it's real."

A moment passes. "Yeah," Sal whispers. "I know what that's like."

Travis is kind of pissed for no reason, has been all day, but he still reaches out to gently hold Sal's hand. "I know." He kisses the back of Sal's knuckles, feeling the bumps under his lips like a parched man's first sip of water.

"But…" And now Sal sighs, that familiar sound that means Travis is going to be spilling his guts. "It was easier, once I let it be real. When Dad let it be real."

"I know," Travis says again.

"...And?"

"And… I guess it's a good idea to talk about it." He hands his sandwich to Sal to tuck away, just so he can pull his knees up to his chest. It's embarrassing how comforting it is just to hug his own legs, especially with the rough bark behind him grounding him in the moment. "My parents are having a baby."

"Oh," Sal says.

Travis makes a sound that isn't a laugh. "Yeah."

"That's…"

"A lot?" A sigh digs its way out of his chest, like the air is being pushed around jagged glass. "Yeah."

For a minute or two, all there is to hear is birdsong. Travis starts to rock himself a little, hears the grass crunch under him and focuses hard on the sound. On the chirping of the colorful birds above them.

Sal's hand tangles itself in his. "How are you feeling? About your parents having another kid?"

"Like dog shit." And then suddenly his eyes are pickling like needles as tears force themselves into being. He blinks them away hurriedly, but they won't go anywhere. They won't go anywhere. "Oh, Jesus Christ-"

The hand in his turns into two arms around him, Sal's mask tucked tenderly against his chest. Travis is glad, suddenly, that the courtyard is always empty.

He forces a snotty deep breath through his nose, rubbing with his sleeves at the tears he'll never admit he's crying. "Ugh. Fuck this. I shouldn't have to feel guilty. I shouldn't have to feel like it's my fault."

"Your fault?" Sal sounds totally bewildered. "What do you think is your fault?"

"If it weren't for me being a shitty, worthless-" A heaving breath shakes him and suddenly he's sobbing. "-disappointment - a fucking waste of space - then my parents wouldn't be having another kid. They wouldn't be getting ready to torment another baby the way they've tormented me."

Sal quickly hushes him. "Don't say that! None of their behavior is your fault. Their actions are their own."

It almost makes Travis want to laugh. There's something hysterical shaking him, as old as he is and shaped like panic. Shaped like whatever panic becomes when it's all you've ever known how to feel.

"I know it doesn't mean much-" And now Sal is hugging him even tighter. "But it's not your fault. Whatever this kid lives through, it won't be your fault. And hey - you're still here. You're so strong, Travis. The baby will be strong too."

Maybe the guilt doesn't grow, but it does take a new shape. It morphs into something like tar, filling his insides with its sour bile and making him want to crawl into the earth and rot. No one should have to be strong like he's been strong. No one should have to go through it all alone like he did, but he can't do anything about it. He can't do anything for his future sibling and it hurts so, so much. It's suffocating.

His entire life has been suffocating.

Travis holds Sal closely to himself, tight as a drowning man grips his life vest, and cries. Neither he nor Sal can do much of anything about the child on its way or anything about the quality of its life, but they can hold each other. They can press tightly against the other in the bright sunlit courtyard and hope desperately that the child, in its time, will be held like this. Will be loved like this.

Travis can't do much. But he can mourn.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading 💖


End file.
